Blood Angel
by FatefulNight
Summary: Mael an Angel from heaven is charged with the worse crime imaginable...He is banished, and cursed to live among humans as not only a fallen angel, but a bloodthirsty vampire.
1. Prelude: Atrocity

**--Blood Angel--**

_"After my Fall, after my disgraceful banishment, never thought I to find a joy like to the glories of my lost throne. With blackened wings and shadowed light, I was damned times over. Then, my eyes set to Her, and somehow, my Hell stopped burning."_

_-From the journal of Aluraune_

**Prelude: Atrocity**

He knelt, head bowed, eyes averted from the intense light before him. He could feel the icy glances of his brothers who circled him a fair distance off, hear their furious whispers and hushed comments. He did not need to listen to know of what they spoke. He molded his wings tighter to his form, wishing that by simply disappearing from view they would all forget what he had done. His mind raced, trying to grasp why he had made the choices he had, why he had thrown away his perfect immortality for something he did not need. But the taste…the sweet blood…it was all he could think of. He knew that in a situation this dreadful, praying would do not even him any good. Still, he found himself repeating a fragment of the most common evocation "Hallowed be thy name…thy kingdom come…thy will be done…hallowed be they name…hallowed…" He was brought out of his reverie when a deep, emotionless voice called him to attention. "Mael, stand and face me!" Mael's head jerked forward, his snow-white hair whipping to the side, his focus now rapt on the being before him. _My God, _he thought, but whether as a fact or an expression of his fear, he could not decide. Mael stood shakily, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, his eyes darting around nervously. He looked to his brothers for some form of comfort, but they looked on with cold emotionless stares. "Mael,! I said face me!" the voice called again, and almost against his will Mael's eyes locked with the one who had commanded him. "Mael, prepare for thy judgment. Thy Brothers stand before you to present Testament to your Sin, and to ensure it is recorded for the future of the stars to know. Never shall your deeds escape Me, nor the eyes and hearts of your Brothers. Every Ring of Heaven and Hell alike shall know and remember thy name." With the last word said, a figure stepped out from the ring of watchful Guardians, contrasted to their pastel-colored robes, being garbed in a deep black outfit. His skin was of a sickly pale pallor, and his eyes were a cloudy grey. Shimmering blue glyphs stretched across the features of his face, and there could be no mistake in his identity. Azrael, the Angel of Death and Destruction himself, was to be the bearer of his doom. A shudder ran the length of Mael's spine. The Lord never called upon the aid of Azrael, for although he was a servant, just as the rest, his methods were questionable at best. For him to be called to duty either meant that He needed an especially cold Angel, or the content of the wrong being presented had drawn Azrael's morbid curiosity and he had asked for the duty himself. Mael couldn't decide which outcome was worse. In his hands Azrael held a glittering sheet of parchment, which he looked over, looked to Mael, back to the paper, back to Mael, and back to the paper again, as if comparing the accused to the accusations. His face betrayed no emotion, but Mael knew that Azrael was shocked. Never had they witnessed such as this. How the Libraries would ring with his tale for centuries to come. Azrael finished his preparations and moved the Lords side, turning to face Mael, keeping his eyes to the paper. Loudly and clearly, he began reading:

"Mael, Brother Guardian, Angel of Twilight, Keeper of Dusk and Dawn, Son of the Moon, Keeper of the Stars. The Silent Watcher,"

Mael winced as each name was read, for he knew that as soon as the words were spoken, each title was lost to him. It was as if they were stripping him of his dignity without making an event of it.

"Mael, I read now your wrongs so all may know, and so you shall know. I hold your judgment. You have drunk of the Holiest Fount, the Blood of All Life, and the Water of Eternity. You have tainted your own soul and blasphemously disregarded the glory granted to you by our Lord. You have slaughtered your own purity, blackened your own soul,"

Here Azrael looked up from the parchment, his eyes boring into Mael's. Never had Mael been more afraid in his life. Never had he been afraid.

"You, Mael, have drunk of the Blood of the Christ."

The whispers began once again, some worried, some furious, some curious. All though, burned in Mael's head, each as if an individual roar in his ears. A helpless moan of sorrow escaped Mael's lips, something very unbecoming of someone of his power. But, seeing as he was damned, he could care less. He was a wretch, and should act justly to his position. Silently, Azrael returned to the ring of witnesses, his sable colored garments fading into the brighter shades of his Brothers. Mael fell helplessly to his knees, supporting his shaking body with his hands. His hair fell along the sides of him, hiding his face from the crowd. He was glad he was at least given his emotions to hide. Then and there, for the first time in his existence, he cried. "God," he breathed to himself, the tears dropping onto his hand, icy and painful. "God…what have I done?" he pleaded, but he expected no answer. "Mael, do you deny this atrocious act you have committed?" Mael heard the question, but he was rendered speechless for the moment. Strands of his hair were matted to his tear stained cheeks, glistening like icicles in their whiteness. Even as he mourned his sins, deep within him, the fire of forbidden passion still flickered. The taste still burned his throat, still lingered on his tongue. If only he could take one more draught…"Mael, I have asked thee if you will denial or acceptance!" Mael flinched, forcing himself to speak. His reply came as a hoarse whisper. "I do not deny my Sin" He squeezed his eyes shut, all of his nerve expended, fear taking over his senses. He dreaded the final proclamation and somewhere, deep down, hoped that he would be forgiven, somehow, and return as a faithful servant.

"Then with your own admittance do I condemn thee. You have forsaken the sanctity of my Kingdom, and so you shall not be permitted to live amongst its splendor. Upon the world which I have created, there is a legend of a creature, one that you could play oh so well."

If it had been any other than He saying it, the remark would have been mocking.

"So, Mael, your sentence is thus: I shall bind you to the earth, allowing you to withhold your immortality, but at a price. You shall be what they have called a Vampire. You shall drink of their tainted blood to stay sane and thinking and it shall not be your choice. You shall be a demon, a beast. You, Mael, are banished!"

Mael's head jerked up, his eyes wide in terror. He had to plea, to beg, something. The only thing that left his lips were screams, and they were useless. Already, he was falling to Earth.

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Please review!! chapter one will be out soon...like...tomarrow =)


	2. the beauty of a flower

**--Blood Angel--**

_**Chapter I: The Beauty of a Flower**_

_"Never had I viewed a flower with as much desire as I had that day. When you have been stripped of all you held dear, any beauty is enough to consume you."  
-From the Journal of Aluraune_

Mael laid still, his breath slow and labored. He ached from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head, with searing pain burning the center of his back. He already knew from whence that pain came from, for he knew that his wings were not there as they should be. He kept his eyes shut tight, dreading to look upon where he had been thrown. For the moment, he merely was listening in on his surroundings, trying to get a grasp on where he was. Overhead, he could hear the light, musical twittering of birds as they flew by. He could also barely recognize a soft breeze rustling the leaves overhead, so he decided he must be in some kind of forest. A little further off, he heard the gentle murmur of water. _Well, I suppose it could have been worse, _he thought to himself. With a grunt, he rolled onto his stomach, gritting his teeth against the searing pain that shot through his body at moving so quickly. With a mental effort, he forced his eyes open. Filling his whole view was a small, delicate looking flower. Its petals were of a very deep red, darker than a rose, and its stem was of a vivid green. Beneath the bulb, blackish thorns stuck out, with thread-like vines creeping out to the ground, their ends curling upwards at their tips. On a few of the petals were splotches of icy blue, shimmering just like teardrops. Mael had seen something like this, but he knew that this was not of the human world. It was a flower only found in his home. "Aluraune," he breathed, and stretched his fingers out towards it. Suddenly, a sharp tingling began in his nose. His fingers receded, and he tilted his head up, sniffing at the air. He smelt a strong, heady scent, sweet, but unlike the scent of flowers or forest plants. It smelt…familiar, but not as strong as the last time he remembered. As he continued inhaling, the pain in his body seemed to null. All his fatigue seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the smell. He pushed himself off the rocky floor onto his knees, closing his eyes, listening. A little ways off he could hear the soft step of feet, the steady breathing of something. The smell was closer now, stronger, and Mael's heart began to race. By the time he was aware of himself, he was in a crouch, his hands braced on the floor, and a growl was rumbling in his throat. A face emerged

from the trees before him, that of a young man, barely over teenage years. He had a bag slung over his shoulders, and was covered in dirt and pine needles. When he spotted Mael in the forest clearing, he stopped in his tracks. The time it took Mael to launch himself onto the man, pin him to the floor, and tear into his neck could be measured in heartbeats. Every nerve in his body screamed to stop, to not kill this innocent being, but his mind was filled with the thought of blood. The taste, the feel, and the way he took it. His hunger controlled him, and his conscience was useless. He kneeled, bent over the man's neck, drinking deeply, his mouth dripping with overflowing blood. But his eyes overflowed with tears. His hands jerked fiercely, and his legs strained to move, but his mouth was like a steel vice, keeping him locked in place. When he had finally sated himself, Mael stood, panting, his body shaking in horror. He looked down at the pale, drained corpse and shuddered. _What have I done? I am an Angel! I swore to protect the humans, not…this! _He stepped back, slowly, his eyes never leaving the man. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flower, the Aluraune. He knelt beside it, his eyes taking it all in. A deadly beauty, he knew, for despite its looks, the petals would slowly kill any creature that ate one or took any part of it into the skin. The thorns did the same. A bite from one of the blacking growths and your blood would be poisoned, and the death would be torturously slow. He cradled the bulb in his hands, and silently, he cried. His tears blended with the blue designs of the petals, until they looked one and the same. _The beauty of this single flower is so false, never revealing the true danger beneath. A rose of Heaven, sent here to earth to captivate their eyes. Soon enough, it will reproduce, and spread its evil grace wide. _Mael knew only too well how this small thing must feel. He put his head down. _No. I am no longer an Angel. I have been banished, disgraced. I must take on a new identity to live this new life. _He looked at the flower again, and he knew who he would be. "Aluraune," he breathed again. "I am Aluraune."


	3. bloodlust

**--Blood Angel--**

Chapter II: Bloodlust

"_What I once was and what I had become were so impossibly different. I barely even knew who I was anymore. Mael was no more, and never would be again. Now, there was only Aluraune, the beast, the demon, and the Vampire." _-From the Journal of Aluraune

Aluraune had no idea how long he had been wandering the woods. In the time he had been wandering though, he had taken two more people, luckily both men. He may not be able to control the hunger itself, but he would bet his soul he could control who he released it on. No women, no children. This would be the immoral code he lived by. By the time the sun had set, he had barely made his way out of the maze-like trees. Unfortunately, he had also stepped out to the border of a small town. Already he felt his hunger kicking in. He dug his feet into the dirt, gritting his teeth. He couldn't take another step. He'd put too many people in danger. But his feet were moving by some unknown command. One step after another, each another step into damnation. "No!" he yelled allowed, his eyes burning. "I will NOT!" He was halfway down the hillside leading into the small residence. The tavern lights glowed, markers for his next meal. Not a sound came from below, but he knew that if he continued, screams would soon tear through the night. He also knew that with so many possible targets, he would never successfully control who he attacked. He was now to the very first building. With a growl, he forced his steps towards the nearest tavern and threw the door open, fighting back his urge to scavenge the rest of the town. The innkeeper looked up in surprise, and so did the other patrons. Some of them even dropped their mugs of ale in shock. He forgot how he would appear to them. He should have masked himself somehow, but it was too late now. He walked up as calmly as he could to the tavern master and pushed his snowy hair out of his eyes. In the surest voice he could manage, he asked calmly "Are there any rooms available for the night?" The man looked at him in rapt attention for a few moments more before answering "Well, yes, but...a man such as yourself looks to be the type to stay in the more prosperous inns, if ya' don't mind me sayin', sir." Aluraune sighed, shaking his head. This was something he'd have to deal with on a regular basis, he knew. "No, I understand your concern. But, believe me, I am content staying here…" It was just then that Aluraune

realized something. He had no funds. His eyes widened in thought. He sighed again, knowing that he would hate himself later for what he was about to do. "But…seems that I have no payment tonight…" he looked the up, his crimson eyes locking onto the innkeeper's. He saw a slight shudder go through him, and continued. "I would be in debt to you if I could stay the night for free. I am new to this region, and have not yet had a chance to ground myself in." He tilted his head, making sure not to break visual contact. The man's mouth worked uselessly for a moment before he replied. "Oh, but mi lord, of course, of course, of course you may stay. No trouble at all, I'd be honored. I happen to have a master room available this night. If I could just take your name…?" Aluraune smiled slyly and began to answer "Ma-" but caught himself. "Aluraune, my name is Aluraune." The innkeeper smiled and reached for a quill, a bottle of ink, and a slip of parchment. "You said Aluraune, mi lord? A very unique name, I'm sure, Never have I heard such in this area, much less the surrounding ones." He began to write on the slip, scribbling half-heartedly. "Aluraune," he murmured to himself as he wrote. Completing the note, he tucked it beneath the counter and looked back up warmly. "Alright, mi lord, your room is right up the stairs over there," he motioned off to a curving set of stairs that seemed to lead up about three levels. "It is on the first floor, farthest door down the hall, the room with the red door. It's impossible to miss, and if you require anything at all, just call, and I will accommodate you gladly." He grinned once more and lowered his head, returning to writing on his parchment. Aluraune nodded and turned to the stairs, only too aware of how quiet the room had gotten. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see the patrons looking him over in amazement, in the farthest corner of the room; he even thought he saw a pretty looking young girl intent on him. He sighed and made his way up the staircase, smiling to himself when he finally heard the low murmur of activity start up again. He walked down the first hall, glancing over the shabby walls and décor. He promised himself that when he obtained any wealth, he would only too surely share it with this inn. He arrived to his room and opened the door, noting the ruby-crafted doorknob. When Aluraune stepped in, his eyes widened in amazement and awe, and he stood inspecting the room. Not the slightest detail had been ignored, and he could already tell where all the funds had been put in. The walls were painted a deep blue, the shade of sapphires, and not a shred of it was peeling. The furniture was of polished ivory, from what creature, he could not begin to guess. The bed was a four-poster, with red silk drapes hiding the mattress within. Pictures lined the wall, from simple paintings of sunsets to intense portraits of fierce beasts. The floors were of the same ivory material as the furniture, yet seemingly more polished, if possible. Overall, the room had a very regal appearance. But he couldn't properly enjoy it.

His heart was racing from the strain he had made to ignore his hunger, and now he could barely restrain himself any longer. He jumped when a knock came at the door. Steadying his breathing, he turned around and opened it slowly, peering out. The young girl from the bar room stared back at him, a smile on her face. He inhaled sharply. He noticed her blood scent was stronger than any other he had registered so far. He shuddered and said, calmly "Yes, can I help you?" She smiled wider and tilted her head. "Well, I was hoping so. May I?" She gestured past him, and he reluctantly threw the door wide, permitting her to enter. She walked in gracefully, brushing against him lightly as she passed. He gritted his teeth hard. He could _feel _her blood pulsing beneath her skin. She took in the room as she entered, eyes lingering upon the bed. Aluraune closed the door behind him quietly, trying to steady his breathing. She turned and faced him again, eyes taking him in as she had the room. He stood silently, arms at his side, waiting. "Well," she said, balancing lightly on her heels. "I saw you enter and I couldn't help but introduce myself. I'm Selene. And you are…?" She eyed him questioningly. "Aluraune," he said emotionlessly. "Aluraune," she mused, looking pleased. "What a beautiful name for such a beautiful person." She smiled again, but this time there was a glint in her eyes. He shifted his feet uneasily, not particularly liking the way she looked at him. His heart beat faster, his vampiric lust trying to overpower him. He steadied himself and said, mildly. "Did you need something? I'm quite tired and would like to be alone." Her eyes widened then, almost in hurt. "Oh, but being alone is no fun. I was hoping I could get to know you a little better." She took a step forward. He pressed himself to the door, his fists clenching. She stopped short, looking him over again. "I couldn't help but notice you down there…how could I not want you? You look like an angel…" Her eyes were shining, but with what he couldn't tell. She was barely over teenage years. She was a woman. He had sworn…She took another step forward. He reacted quickly and slid around her, backing towards the bed unknowingly. She turned, grinning. "Come now, Aluraune, are you that afraid of me?" She took one step, two. He bit down on his tongue, his eyes glowing deep crimson. She failed to notice. One of his legs hit the bed and he stumbled backwards in shock, ripping the drapes off their bars. Selene took the distraction to leap on him, pinning him down. He growled, trying to push up against her, but he hadn't hunted for too long a period. He was weak. "Aluraune, calm down." she purred into his ear, pressing herself to

him. Her blood pulsed so smoothly, heatedly. His mouth ached. She raised her head, smiling, "Aluraune," she breathed again, and kissed his lips roughly. His eyes shot wide.

Moments later, he kneeled in the corner of the room, shaking violently. The lifeless eyes of Selene stared at him from across the room, her drained body draped limply over his bed, her blood matting the sheets. He looked down at his hands, the pallor of his skin more vivid now with the blood pumping beneath it. What had he done? He gagged as he heard the sick thud of the body hitting the floor. He bent over, dry retching. The scent of the dead blood made him sick. His stomach lurched, and he retched again, blood trickling down his mouth. He retched again, and again, louder and louder. Soon, he was standing, trying to keep his legs steady. He felt weak. He stumbled towards the door but tripped over Selene's body. He tripped and hit the wall hard, knocking a crystal vial off the nearest cabinet. He slouched down, coughing. His head jerked up when he heard steps coming down the hall. "No," he whispered. "Mi lord, are you okay in there?" He heard the tavern keeper at his door, trying the knob. Aluraune felt like screaming, to warn him off, but the door was already open. The poor man didn't have a chance to even yell. That was the second body he left in his room, and before he made anymore, he decided to leave. Hauling the corpses to the corner of his room, he choked out a final apology and climbed out of the window at the far end of his room, running into the moonlit night.


End file.
